Seven
by Kuri333
Summary: Seven sins, seven points of view. Seven moments in the relationship of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. Written for the "Seven Deadly Sins" Challege created by acciohope15 .
1. Gluttony

Written for the "Seven Deadly Sins" Challege (created by acciohope15).

Rules: Seven chapters, one for each sin.

Lenght: 700-1500 words each.

Nothing belongs to me, it's all JKR's.

* * *

_In love, as in gluttony, pleasure is a matter of the utmost precision._ - Italo Calvino

"Mum says I'll get ill," Tonks opened her mouth and stuffed in an entire chocolate frog. She was challenging him, even though she knew there was no way she could possibly win.

Cousin Sirius just raised one eyebrow and took two frogs, looking at them with an air of mock concentration.

"You wouldn't care about that, now, would you Nymphadora?"

"Don't call me that!" she could feel her hair changing colour, she was getting used to that.

Sirius, infuriating as ever, just ignored her. The two chocolate frogs on his hands were facing each other, moving their tiny legs in a futile attempt of freeing themselves.

"But do you… care?" He casually chewed off one of the frog's heads.

"I don't want her to get mad at me. If she finds out we're eating an entire box of these, she will be."

"Stop, then," he said, eating the rest of his beheaded frog.

"I won't. I said I'll eat more than you!"

"Then you're falling behind."

"Your mouth is much bigger," Nymphadora replied, hastily taking off the wrapping of another chocolate frog.

"Yours will grow."

"Yeah sure, but meanwhile, you're eating twice as I am!"

"That is correct, yes." Sirius winked at her.

Suddenly she had an inspiration. It was very complicated indeed, she still had a lot of trouble trying to change parts of her body on purpose but sometimes… sometimes she had managed.

Closing he eyes tight she tried to concentrate; what she wanted to so was so hard, so terribly difficult.

"Dora?" Sirius' voice sounded just a little concerned. "Are you feeling ill already?"

She could not answer, she had the feeling she was almost there; she would manage it this time.

"Nymphadora?" he asked again.

"Hush!" she said, outstretching her hand in his direction.

"Would you-?"

And she felt it. Something pricking in her face, something hot and fluffy. It was like a tiny explosion inside her… it was so strange but she was sure she was managing it this time.

"Whoa!" Sirius said.

Finally, she opened her eyes. Sirius' seemed to be about to pop off their sockets.

"Are you…?"

Her entire face felt funny but she had no way to tell what exactly had happened. She needed to look at it. With a sprint, she went to the mirror hanging next to the stairs.

The image was the weirdest thing she had seen in her life. There she was, barely tall enough for her entire face to show up in the mirror, her dark eyes looking exactly the same, and her nose… but that was it. It looked at is somebody had plastered Sirius' jaw into her face. Her mouth was large, full of overgrown teeth... she even had a squared chin!

"I didn't know you could do that on purpose yet."

She looked up the reflection in the mirror. Sirius was standing behind her, his eyes fixed on hers, beaming.

She started smiling too, only it looked so strange with such a large mouth.

Suddenly she remembered.

"You're going to lose!"

Running, she launched herself to the still half-full box of chocolate frogs and took three at the time.

"Now you're going to get ill, that's for sure," Sirius said with a bark-like laugh.

"Now I don't care at all," she said, stuffing the three frogs into her overly large mouth.

It was not as easy as it seemed at the beginning. Only her face was bigger, the rest of her body was not ready to swallow such a large amount of chocolate.

"Easy there," Sirius said, taking two frogs himself.

"You yus' 'uan bee to looth."

"I don't want you to die."

Tonks laughed and coughed, almost chocking with the chocolate.

"You've some there," Sirius said, suddenly sounding earnest, pointing at her forehead.

"Where?" Nymphadora rubbed her face.

"There!"

Getting closer, Sirius smashed half a frog into her cheek.

"Hey!" She cried indignantly, jumping into his lap with her own pieces of chocolate at the ready.

"Hey, you! I've someplace to go afterwards," Sirius protested as her hand full of chocolate touched his leather jacket.

"You'll show up all brown then!" she panted, struggling to free herself from her cousin much stronger arms, while he still managed to plaster more chocolate on her forehead.

"I can't! And I won't!"

"Wait till I…"

She was closing her eyes again, ready to try her morphing. She just needed larger arms and she would just…

Somebody knocked at the front door and she groaned, all her concentration gone. She could even feel her jaw recovering its normal size. Blast!

"See? That's for me." Sirius said, pointing his wand at his face and murmuring something; the stains of chocolate disappeared.

"Hey, clean me up as well!" Nymphadora called after him, while he was walking towards the door. "Hey!"

He ignored her.

At the door was one of his grown-up friends. She had seen this one once or twice before, and he was usually nice, but she could not help feeling a pang of resentment. What was there so important all the time that her wonderful cousin Sirius had to go to? Why couldn't he just stay with her a while longer?

"Padfoot," the man said, "you ready? Hello, there." He added waving down at her. She ignored him.

"Yeah, just let me…" with a wave of his wand Sirius summoned his jacket and, Nymphadora did not missed it, a handful of chocolate frogs.

"You've cheated!" she said.

"That's a bit fresh from you, isn't it, big mouth?"

"I… well I…"

"See you later then," Sirius said, stuffing yet another chocolate frog into his mouth. "We goin', Moony?"

Sirius' friend was not moving. Without saying a thing, he drew out his wand and pointed it directly at Nymphadora.

"_Scourgify_!" he said calmly, and she could feel the patches of chocolate disappearing off her face.

She touched her forehead, it was clean again.

"You look better without all that chocolate," Sirius' friend added, and he turned around and walked outside.

"Don't gape, Nymphadora," Sirius said with a smirk, "and say good-bye to your Mum for me."


	2. Envy

_Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise._ – John Gay

Her laughter was easy to trigger and had such a funny ringing you just had to join in. Remus could not remember when he had started to notice. It was a nice change inside the musty old house that served now as headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix and, sometimes, as his own home. And, if he was to be honest, it was a niche change in his life too.

Not now, though. Not today.

Not when she was laughing like that, in such a careless manner. Not if she was laughing with _him_.

The oldest of Arthur and Molly Weasley's kids, Bill, had arrived from Egypt a couple of days ago; somebody had been tasked with filling him in and now, considered to be ready, he would be taking part in his first ever meeting in the Order.

"He'll be a heck of a good asset," Sirius had said just the night before. "Can you imagine the difference that would have made the last time if we had had somebody well acquainted with the goblins? Maybe they even trust this bloke enough to actually tell him what the bloody hell they're thinking!"

Remus had agreed, of course, enthusiastically even. Just mere hours ago, before actually meeting Bill, he had shared Sirius' ideas about the role of the Order's newest member. He had even been eager to know him.

Then Tonks had arrived, somewhat flushed and dishevelled, stumbling down the stairs into the kitchen.

"You're early," Sirius said.

"I know," she replied, dropping the large bag she was carrying carelessly on a chair.

"You can't live without me."

Tonks just scorned.

"Yeah, right, don't flatter yourself."

"Don't need to. But why, oh fine cousin of mine, where you so eager to come? Is it because you could not wait to see Moony here? Or are you just too eager to hear old Snivelly's latest report on the evolution of the pure-blood mania?"

Remus had to fight hard not to kick Sirius under the table, but he soon enough realised that would have been the equivalent of yelling it all out. What exactly _it_ was, he did not know, but he was certain it had something to do about some very strange feelings concerning the witch standing in front of them.

"What's with the hairdo by the way?" Sirius continued, ignoring the swear word Tonks had nonchalantly directed at him. "Yellow? I thought you were more of the pink-ish type."

"I'm not, and it's none of your bloody business anyway."

"Aren't we in a temper tonight?"

She just scoffed, sat on the table and helped herself to a bottle of Butterbeer. She was smiling though; Remus knew, and he was fairly sure Sirius did too, that in Tonks rudeness did not necessarily mean bad temper. The opposite, more likely.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Peachy," she said, between gulps of Butterbeer. "I almost die under the heavy weight of a large stack of files that suddenly-"

They never got to hear the end of the story. Somebody had knocked loudly on the front door and the portrait of Sirius' mother was wailing her head off.

"For the love of Merlin!" Sirius said, running upstairs.

"Should we go and help-?" Remus was asking, but he realised Tonks was not paying attention to him; her eyes were fixed on the door.

A moment later the woman's voice went off and Sirius was getting back into the kitchen, followed by Bill Weasley.

Remus spared just a side glance to the tall man, wearing a dragon hide jacket and an earring; his attentionwas caught by Tonks, and how her smile widened and she practically jumped off her chair to greet the newcomer.

"-so sorry, mate," Bill was saying, "nobody told me about _that_. Tonks! So good to see you again!"

It had been the beginning of something Remus could not really understand. The scene in front of his eyes was fairly known to him, two old schoolmates meeting after a long time and exchanging news and memories. His own feelings, though, were something else entirely, something unpleasant and new.

"Yellow hair," Bill was scorning, taking one lock of Tonks' hair into his fingers and, without a reasonable explanation, giving Remus an urge to protest. "Pathetic."

"Rather this than the poor attempt at you house's colours your displaying."

Oblivious to the rest of the world, or more precisely, to his and Sirius' presence, both carried on. They remembered old Quidditch games – mocking her colour of choice and Huffelpuff's apparent inability to hold the Quaffle for more than a couple of seconds –, mishaps of not very long ago, old schoolmates; somebody was engaged, somebody had been fired from the Ministry, somebody was in charge of a new pub in Diagon Alley and everybody was saying it was _the_ place nowdays-

Even though he tried to hide it behind his own bottle of Butterbeer, Remus could not take his eyes off the scene. They were so young and so freed of… of everything that he would consider being part of his life. Of course he could meet with old school friends, it would be easier, though, if half of them were death. And then there was the issue of finding amongst the other half somebody who would not care of his being a werewolf, which would be close to impossible. They would reminisce all right, if there was such an opportunity, but that laughter shared by Bill and Tonks… so careless, so full of life…

"I've just came from seeing Charlie in Romania," Bill, suddenly seemed to remember he and Tonks were not alone. "He was in Tonks' year," he explained. "She was right crazy about him too."

"Was not!" Tonks said indignantly, and Remus wondered if it was his imagination or had she blushed.

"And, being old and wise as I am, I was to be the one always keeping an eye on you two kids…"

_Old and wise_, Remus had to make an effort not to snort aloud. What an irony.

He looked at Sirius for some sort of sympathy but he seemed to be engrossed by Bill's tales too, laughing with them and even commenting on one thing or another. The traitor.

For once in his life, Remus was glad when Snape's report finally started, the kitchen of number 12 Grimmauld Place now full with Order members. He could not stop taking glances at Tonks and Bill though, and he did not missed one of their shared looks or gestures. They had a thing of their own, a world, a language, a way of understanding everything from their so very young perspective. They were whole, and undamaged, and, he could not help but thinking it again, so full of life and future.

It seemed as if the meeting had lasted for ever, but finally everybody was saying their good-byes and going. Remus overheard Bill saying something about going for a drink afterwards but he made a point to talk to Sirius and not to hear Tonks' answer; his own proclivity for self-torture had reached its limit.

And yet he could not help looking at the parchment Sirius had thrust in his hand. It was the list of pairs for the next month's guard duties. His eyes, almost on its own accord, searched for her name. It was scrawled in bright purple ink next to his own.

"I'd rather team up with you," he heard her voice nearby. She was standing right next to him, with a playful smile and her eyes darting from his to the list. "If you don't mind."

He could not help but look at Bill's name. Nobody had sign up next to him.

Of course he did not mind.


	3. Greed

_It didn´t occur to me until later that there´s another truth, very simple: greed in a good cause is still greed_. – Stephen King

The glass phial was half empty and Tonks looked worried at the bright greenish liquid. It seemed to be glowing a bit in the otherwise perfect darkness of the corridor leading to the door of the Department of Mysteries.

Would there be enough for the rest of the night? She was feeling fully awake now, having just taken a small dose of the awakening potion… but after having taken it every day for a fortnight now, she knew that its effects were all but everlasting. As a matter of fact, she had to take more of it with every passing sleepless night, in order for it to work.

She would just have to brew some more then, she decided while carefully hiding it in an inner pocket.

When, she did not really know. After this guard duty, she would have to go back to headquarters and present her report. And then… just back to the Ministry again for her regular shift. So far, all of that was manageable.

She had volunteer for another mission for the next evening, though. And that just might result to be a tad problematic in terms of her now almost finished supply of bottled energy.

"Don't you have a shift that day?" Mad-Eye Mood had asked her when she volunteered for that extra mission.

"Keeping tabs on me, are you?"

The old Auror grunted.

"Keeping tabs on the team," he said.

"Well, have I ever given you a reason to worry?"

Both magical and normal eyes focused on Tonks. "Not recently," he said.

Tonks beamed.

"That's what I thought."

At the end, she resolved on going to the Apothecary on her way to Grimmauld Place, just to get a large dose of the potion. She would not have any time to waste on doing it herself so it was better just to assume it and prepare for a new day at the Ministry.

A commotion the moment she arrived to the Aurors headquarters had the effect of yet another dose of potion.

"Somebody's chasing Muggles in a broomstick," Robarts, a fellow Auror, yelled at her the moment she entered.

"I'm in!" she yelled back, trailing behind him.

"I've already assembled a team," Robarts replied.

"And I bet you could use some extra hands."

The Auror looked at her for a short moment and Tonks wondered how successful the morphing away of the dark circles under her eyes was. Apparently good enough, for Robarts nodded and less than two minutes later, she was Disapparating, her broomstick in her hand, with a bunch of Hit-wizards.

If she felt dizzy while chasing the rogue warlock, she did not say it to anybody, lest of all Sirius and Remus when, during dinner at Grimmauld Place, she told them about it.

"So, who was him?" Sirius asked,

"Just some Puddlemere United fan. Since they lost the semi-final two days ago, the only sensible thing he did was drinking himself silly. Apparently at some point he thought firing tickling spells at Muggles seemed to be a good idea."

Both Remus and Sirius laughed and Tonks glowed.

This was it; this moment was the reason for it all. Too bad it was forced to be brief.

"Gotta go," she said, tumbling her chair over in her haste to get up, "we have the smugglers thing with Mundungus."

"Have fun," Sirius grunted.

"Will do."

She was already outside, partially thinking it was odd Remus had not said a thing, when she heard his voice calling her.

He had followed her, almost to the front door.

"Are you all right?" he was looking at her intently and Tonks felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Why are you asking?"

He sighed, he seemed to be uncertain of what he wanted to say.

"It might be a trick of the firelight, but you looked very tired down there."

That did not make sense; she had just had a large dose of the potion before entering Headquarters. She was not even feeling tired or sleepy. And yet, he had been looking at her, and her heart gave a couple of funny jumps at that thought.

"I'm not tired," she said. "It was surely the firelight."

"All right," he said. "It was a great work what you did today."

Tonks smiled broadly. Yes, listening to Remus saying it aloud was a very good reason for doing all this.

She did not only have to be great, though, she thought while going to the apparition point. She needed to be the greatest. How else would she be able to stand out in that incredibly talented crowd that was the Order of the Phoenix? How else would she make _him_ notice her? Really notice her and admire her?

She posed herself the question again after the mission. She had successfully managed to capture two smugglers that, sadly, did not seem to have anything to do with Death Eaters what so ever; still, it had been a successful mission. Would it be enough? She could use some sleep all right, but she only had two hours left before having to go to work again. Two hours would have to do.

There was another important mission coming along the next evening and she had to be the best.


	4. Lust

_I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the colour of a furious harvest. I want to eat the sunbeams flaring in your beauty. –_ Pablo Neruda

It had been such a weird dream, so vivid and intense and glorious. He had woken up with a start, a smile on his lips and the most bizarre mixture of euphoria and astonishment. It had been her all right, from the sound of her laughter to the sight of the bubble-gum pink hair, it had been undoubtedly Tonks and she had been in his arms, surrounded by him, being fiercely kissed by him, kissing him back...

Remus shook his head and stood up. It had been a very strange dream indeed. It was even a dangerous one, he thought over his morning tea, because it had left him with a hunger he could hardly explain.

A dream was not enough, not nearly good enough.

When had he started to think about her in those terms anyway? He felt attracted to Tonks, there was no denying of that, but he had always thought it was an absolutely platonic thing. All right, maybe a little bit more than that; some stronger feeling perhaps, but it was absolutely pointless to dwell on that. Even if she had preferred his company more than once during their work for the order, that did not mean she would…

A new image of his dream, of her sighing in content while his lips traced paths on the skin of her neck, filled his mind and he had to force it to think about something else entirely.

Well, maybe she had touched him for real, more than once during missions in different casual ways; on occasion during an Order meeting just to get his attention… and then, there had been that hug from the night before.

But hugging a friend after coming back from a difficult, dangerous mission was one thing. Wanting him to kiss the daylights out of her was something absolutely different. A new memory, this time of the real hug, replaced for a brief moment the dreamed ones. He had gotten a strong whiff of her scent, he had felt her arms around him and he had lingered a heart-bit too long in their embrace. Apparently she had not mind…

How on earth something as harmless as that could have caused such a dangerous dream?

During the day Remus started both dreading and wishing for dinner at Grimmauld Place, later that evening. He wanted to see her, to be sure once more that she was for real and to hear that wonderful laughter again… but those images of his dreams kept on haunting him and he would be too embarrassed to admit, even to himself, that he enjoyed them so much he was not fighting them anymore.

Tonks arrived a little late and to Remus it felt as if the air of the kitchen had suddenly being replaced by electricity. The fact that she chose to sit right next to him did nothing but increase how edgy he was feeling.

There it was, the scent, and something wild and strong inside him seemed to rose; all his senses were focused on her, on the proximity of her arm to his, on that skin that could never be his to touch, on that lips that would never sigh for him in pleasure the way the Tonks of his dream had done.

She looked at him and he felt embarrassed of having been caught staring at her like that.

"What?" she whispered, and the ringing of her voice sent shivers down his spine.

"Nothing," his voice was a hoarse mumble.

"Is there something…?" her eyes were so bright he could look at them forever.

"No," he smiled at her and nudged her a little; the quick gesture only made matters worse and he had to make an effort and pretend to be listening to what Arthur was saying. The soft touch of her hand on his almost made him yelp aloud.

"You'll tell me if there was… something?" she whispered into his ear and he thought he would burst out of his skin.

How was it possible that nobody on the room noticed?

He looked at her again, stopping for a moment to take in the brightness of her eyes again, the way she would wet her lips, a breath being held in her throat.

"Of course," he replied, and her hand was off his. He felt empty, aching for feeling its warmth, but they were indeed in the middle of something else and it would be better for him to just listen to whatever everybody was discussing.

There was that soft weight of her hand again, and Remus had to force his expression to remain unaltered; it was not a dream, not a fantasy. He could not believe it, but it just had to be real. Her hand was on his leg, under the table, concealed to everybody in the room.

He risked a glance at her again, her eyes were fixed on Molly but an impish smile was hanging of the corners of her lips. Every sound in the room seemed to have died away and even the latest of Molly's cooking had lost her flavour.

Was Tonks actually doing…?

Just as if she had read his mind and was trying to confirm she was really touching him, the hand on his leg moved upwards and then resumed its previous position. Remus sighed against his will and hastened to grab the bottle in front of him and take a large dose of Butterbeer. At his side, Tonks was talking to Ginny as if nothing was happening.

Well, two could play that game.

Without thinking, just for once making his instincts take the lead, his hand dived under the table as well and very softly touched the side of her tight, just to rest an instant later on her leg. The fingers on his tightened and his heart started to pump with such energy Remus feared somebody would hear it.

He wanted that woman; he needed her hand to stay there. Or better, to continue the exploration of other parts of his body, while he did the same with hers. And it would be much better if all of it happened outside that kitchen full of responsible adults and underage kids.

Tonks' hand went upwards and she was whispering into his ear again.

"It's too hot in here."

"Is it?" he was pleased to realise his voice was still steady.

Her hand stopped the stroking of his leg.

"I'd say it is, but it's up to you, really."

And her hand left his leg to be replaced with coldness and a yearn that seemed to be spreading all over Remus' body.

"I'll be off now, Molly, thanks for everything." Her standing up took him by surprise; he needed to do something. She had been explicit, had she not? She had touched his leg, for Merlin's sake!

"Sure you don't want to take some dessert home, dear?"

"Nah, I'm fine, thanks. Good night, you lot!"

In an instant of panic, he saw her leaving the kitchen without as much as a look in his direction. He needed to do something quickly, he needed an excuse, he had to…

"I forgot to give her the-"

He babbled, trying his best to sound nonchalant but, at the same time, not really caring.

The hallway was empty, the front door had just closed, and he needed to catch up with her before she would Disapparate. Almost running he was outside as well, just in time to see her walking towards the alleyway they used as an Apparition point.

"Tonks," he said his voice hoarse again.

She stopped but did not turn around.

He was at her side now, all rational thoughts lost at the look of her and at the flow of memories of real touches and dreamed ones.

"I told you it was hot in there" she said.

He did not let her continue. His hands were on her hips, now for real, and his lips on hers, urging them to open for him, urging her to respond and praying for it all to be real. There was no reason to fear otherwise; her hands surrounded him, while her lips responded as eagerly as his.

"You have no idea," he grunted.


	5. Sloth

_Awake, my soul, and with the sun_

_Thy daily stage of duty run; _

_Shake off dull __sloth__, and joyful rise,_

_To pay thy morning sacrifice. – _Thomas Ken

This was a new type of fear, something she had never experienced before. It had nothing to do with standing in front of a Death Eater, their wands drawn. It did not relate, not even remotely, to that instant of certainty right before being hit by a course. This was something growing inside her, looming everywhere she went, and it did not seemed to have a beginning, nor an end.

Sirius was gone and her sadness was infinite, but this fear was much stronger. It was like the calm heat right before a storm, that strange silence that spoke volumes about an upcoming destruction.

Tonks took a deep breath and opened the door of her apartment. She did not need to look at the couch to make sure he was there, and yet she did. Had he even moved since she had left for work in the morning? She could not tell.

"Wotcher," she said quietly, not being sure if she should force some cheerfulness in her greeting or if she should just match the depressing atmosphere.

"Hey," Remus said. He slowly looked at her but did not say a thing.

They looked at each other in silence for a moment. Tonks wished she could read into those darkened eyes.

"I'll cook us something to eat, should I?"

He did not answer and, for a wild moment, she felt like throwing her bag at him and see if that would make him react. She did not, but settled on make this evening pass, just the way the previous one had, and the one before that.

"Any news?" she called from the kitchen.

"None."

She heard him move, his steps coming her direction.

"Nothing from the Order?" she pressed on.

He sat on a chair without saying a word.

She could still remember... it had been two weeks ago, for Merlin's sake! He had been always so solicitous, so helpful; they would have great times together out of such trivial things as making eggs for dinner.

She could understand his grieve, she could even feel some of it but she had always been a person of action. Her way of coping with everything was to get headfirst into her job. His way was something so unnerving, so unhealthy... She could not decide if she should give him some time, or if she should just knock the inactivity out of him.

"Nothing," he finally said.

They ate in heavy silence, phrases forming in Tonks' head. Should she tell him about her day? About her meeting with Arthur? About the news outside?

"I'll go to bed," Remus suddenly said. "Good night,"

"Wait."

She had not meant for her voice to sound this harsh but she had just decided she could not take it anymore.

He just looked at her, his expression blank.

"Remus, this cannot go on."

He just sighed, his eyes not leaving hers.

"You... you have to pull yourself together."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

For a small moment there had been a little life in his voice, and even though it had been anger, Tonks felt some hope rising inside her.

"You've done nothing," she pressed on, "you're doing nothing. It's like... you're just sitting there, thinking or whatever it is you're doing, and I'm not saying you shouldn't! But it seems..." she could not know how to say it without mentioning him, "it seems you just want to go after Sirius."

Remus closed his eyes and Tonks regretted to have mentioned him. Out of a tacit agreement, his name had not been said aloud since the day after he went. Now it felt as if she had just opened gate and every sad emotion, everything related to death had flooded inside her little kitchen.

For a long moment nobody spoke.

"I'm going to bed," Remus finally said, and this time she did nothing to stop him.

The next day she realised something had changed almost the moment she opened the door. Remus was not on the couch or anywhere to be seen. Tonks called for him, and even looked for him in the flat, fearing he would not answer, but he was not there. Not much longer afterwards, the front door opened and she sighed in relief of seeing him back.

"You were right," was the first thing he said. His voice still seemed to have lost all its energy, but at least there was a little change from the days before. "I can't carry on like this."

She wanted to get closer to him, she wanted to hug him and tell him whatever it was, it would be all right and she would be at his side, but there was something in the atmosphere, something cold, that kept her in place, unable even to smile at him.

"I've just spoken to Dumbledore," he continued.

"What did he said?"

Remus shrugged.

"Not much. I did most of the talking, really."

Thinking about the four or five phrases a day they had been exchanging lately, Tonks found that difficult to believe.

"And?"

"I have a mission," his voice was still dead and Tonks felt as if the coldness was growing stronger around them.

"Wha-?"

"I'm going to life amongst the werewolves. I'm going to spy on them for the Order."

For a moment Tonks could not believe what he was saying. Had his expression not being this solemn, she would have thought he was joking.

"And what good would possible come for that?" she heard herself say in ager.

"I have to do something," he continued, almost repeating what she had said the night before. "I will do something," he added.

"But what about-?"

"Don't wait for me, Tonks. It's not worth it."

And without another word, Remus turned around and went out. It took Tonks a long moment to move and when she did, she just sat on the floor, trying to make sense of what had just happened.


	6. Wrath

___Ira furor brevis est: animum rege: qui nisi paret imperat. [_Anger is momentary madness, so control your passion or it will control you]. -Horace

"No!" he barely heard his own yell of despair. He needed somebody who would tell him it was all a mistake and Harry was terribly wrong.

Remus looked back at him and at Ginny, but none of them said a thing.

Not knowing exactly how, he had collapsed into a chair next to Bill's bed, his head buried in his hands. He felt something inside him burning, something that had nothing to do with the grief he should be feeling. This was something entirely different.

How could he do this to them? How could Dumbledore have died?

He barely listened to Tonks' question, but Harry's answer was clear and impossible to ignore.

"Snape killed him"

Somehow he had known it all along. It had been Snape, it had always been Snape. Remus could feel his fingers pressing painfully against his palms and he could not control it, he did not wanted to, he wanted to know more, to know it all.

"…more Death Eaters arrived — and then Snape — and Snape did it. The _Avada Kedavra._"

Harry seemed to want to burn into everybody else's mind the part about Snape; Remus could understand. For that sort of treason was not something he was willing to ignore. On the contrary, it was the core of it all.

Nobody was talking anymore; they were all listening to a Phoenix singing nearby. He felt like laughing aloud. What sort of grim consolation was that? Some creature that could resurrect from its own disgrace while there they were, consumed by the loss of somebody who would never come back, being forced to accept that destruction and treason had been dwelling around them for who knew how long.

He looked at the kids, at Bill lying unconscious, and he felt an urge to throw every bottle of Madam Pomfrey against the wall, to yell at all of them that all hope was dead as well, that it all had been pointless just like the last time.

He had thought it would be different. He had trusted Dumbledore, he had trusted Sirius, he had trusted Snape and now everything had proven to be so wrong, so much worse. He felt disgusted by himself, he wished he could just forget how stupid he had been, how he always had made the same mistake, trusting in people of all things. Whenever there were people involved there was no saying of what could occur, there were no guarantees, no certainties, and at the end, no hope. How utterly pathetic of him to forget that.

Minerva McGonagall had arrived; it was not difficult for her to believe Snape had betrayed all of them, just the way none of them had actually fought that idea. Not really.

"Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens," he said almost with a sneer. "We always knew that."

And yet, he had chosen to ignore Harry's fears not long ago; he had not paid attention to the kid's hunch or whatever it had been. Again, just like the last war, he had followed orders.

But Remus had known all along. He remembered how Snape had been at school, how he had turned to seek the worst sort of company during the years. And yet he, Remus, had learned to obey Dumbledore and to trust Snape. And yet the headmaster…

"And Dumbledore believed that?" it was impossible. He knew how there had been so much hatred between them, between all of them. "Dumbledore believed Snape was sorry James was dead? Snape _hated _James…."

For the old fool, apparently, it had been unimportant. All evidence had been dismissible and it had taken just a few well chosen words and an ability to hide his own thoughts for Snape to position himself just where they all had fear he would wanted to be. He had won, he had killed Dumbledore with a blow so strong it would kill them all.

Remus felt something bitter in the pitch of his stomach at the thought of Snape arriving to wherever Voldemort now was, bowing maybe, telling him the good news, being rewarded as no other Death Eater would be.

For a moment, he got distracted of such terrible fantasy. Harry had been asking about the fight and all were starting to tell their respective angles, who had fought whom, who had tried to do what, all of them trying to blame themselves, trying to confess how did they had messed it up. They had no idea, though, none of them were to blame the way he, Remus, was to blame. He had known more than any of them; he was the one who had failed to all of them.

The arrival of Arthur and Molly Weasley stopped the recollections. They hurried to Bill's bed and he took a couple of steps back, making room for them. At his side Tonks did the same. For a moment he got distracted by her presence. Not long ago, in the middle of the frail, he had seen her barely duck a jet of green light and later on, she had almost been knocked over by some spell that had made the ceiling collapse.

He had failed in protecting her too. He had promised himself he would try to keep her safe, he had gone away in order to spare her of having to carry with him, he had wanted her to be unharmed and he had not succeeded.

He needed to go out, he wanted to flee, only he knew he was not allowed to do so. At least, he needed to run away from this people, to process his anger the way he had always have: by convincing himself he had to go on struggling, by trying to learn from his own mistakes.

"You see," Tonks voice, uncommonly harsh, took him out of his trance and he had to hastily take in what was going on around them. She was glaring at him; the rage shining though her dark eyes in a way he had never seen before. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!"

Was it possible that, after all that had happened, after how unworthy he had proven to be, she was still thinking about such fantasies? Did she honestly still believe there was a way for her to even keep on discussing the matter?

"It's different," he murmured, trying to conceal it all from everybody around them. "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely —"

All of a sudden she was in front of him, her scent mixed with blood and dust filling his lungs and bringing back memories from another life.

"But I don't care either, I don't care!" suddenly she seized his robes and was shaking him with such violence Remus felt his own wild feelings melt in the heat of her fury. "I've told you a million times…."

"And I've told _you _a million times," he said, ashamed and drawn, "that I am too old for you, too poor… too dangerous…"


	7. Pride

_Pride is still aiming at the best houses: Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell; aspiring to be angels men rebel_. – Alexander Pope

* * *

_I wasn't feeling that great at myself._

I just wanted to die of embarrassment. The ground should just open and swallow me whole.

Anybody could say that after all that had happened during that long,  
terrible night, we would be mourning, or boiling in anger, or at least  
staring numbly outside like some of the people on the Hospital Wing  
were doing.

_Not me, no. I just wanted to go away and forget Dumbledore was death and that there was a possibility for Bill Weasley to become what I was. But above it all, I wanted to forget what she had just yelled and how utterly stupid I had been._

I wanted to pretend the words had been yelled by somebody else, I wanted to get out of my skin and away from him. And, in the meantime, it would be great as well if I could forget Dumbledore was dead and we were left without a leader.

_After Harry left the room, I looked at my feet, unsure of what to do next, whishing that I could just stay there and actually do nothing for a while._

I could not stay put, not when everybody in the room was taking hidden glances at us. Without saying a word I opened the door of the Hospital wing, half wishing somebody would stop me.

_I did not need the sound of the door to realise she was going. I was tuned to her every move and I had practically felt she was going to leave before she even did. And yet, I did nothing to stop her._

I tried to convince myself it was better this way, away from him. The cold air and the darkness were soothing my temper and I could almost forget the shame and the fury. I knew I would never forget him, so I did not even try.

We could not stop thinking about the other; it was so pointless to even try.  
Even at the light of the past months and the recent events, we had learned  
to be the two of us even when there was no such a thing.

_I wished I had been the first one going out; now whatever I would do would look as if I was following her._

I wished I had stayed; now if I came back it would look as if I was still looking for him and that would just be too much.

All the yelled and whispered words, the brief proximity of our bodies,  
her eyes, his lips, something had shifted again between us but it seemed  
we were not ready to acknowledge it yet. Not with everything that had  
happened.

So, all dignity forgotten, I went and hide, knowing perfectly well that that was what I was doing and not really caring. My room at the Hog's Head was not exactly comfortable, and not even close to nice, but it had been home for a while now, it was the one place I could go to and curl over, and wish for everything to be just a terrible nightmare and for me to stop feeling this insignificant.

_Minerva offered me a room inside the castle and, for a moment, I considered on taking it. It would be intelligent to stay close-by, just in case. I refused though. Something strong inside me was yelling I needed to be elsewhere, and I knew perfectly well where that was. I was not worthy, though, not good enough to even think about going to her._

_Somehow I found myself walking to Hogsmeade, all tiredness of the recent fight apparently forgotten, replaced by some sort of certainty that did not allowed second thoughts._

I was going to ignore the knocking on the door but, after everything that had happened, I knew it could be something important. I would have never guessed though, that I would find him.

We looked at one another for what felt like a very long time,  
without saying a word.

I had already talked too much and needed him to be the one this time.

_Out of lack of use, my brain seemed unable to form the right thing for me to say._

_"Nymphadora."_

"Don't call me Nymphadora."

And we both knew we were heading to the right track again.

_"Was it true what you said…?"_

"Have I ever lied to you about a thing?"

_"Never. You've always been just too honest with me, even though I don't deserve it."_

"Maybe it's been a tad too much honesty. I'm sorry about what just happened over there."

_"Don't be."_

I did not know what to say to that.

_Her silence, her blushed expression she would not or could not morph away, her looking so frail… without knowing how, I was hugging her._

His scent, his body, his slight uncertainty, it all took me by surprise but my arms were around his body a hear-beat later, enjoying the feeling.

We raised our heads and looked at each other.  
All the fears we had had looked so insignificant, so useless  
and unworthy. There we were, wanting this to happen and,  
finally, having run out of reasons why it should not.

_I bent down and kissed her, for once feeling strong enough to do that, without fearing I would hurt her any further. I could not, I would not._

I felt his lips on mine and all those feelings of being insignificant went away. This was the right thing; we were just right like this.

_"I'm so sorry."_

"Don't say that."

_"I… I thought…"_

"I know…"

_It was her proximity, the certainty that, amongst everything going on, all the evil and unfairness outside, there was something true in my life and it was her… a wild idea crossed my mind._

_"Marry me."_

"Yes."

I prompted, without really considering the question, almost as if I was expecting it, almost as if I had known all along that it was to this that we had been heading all along.

_"Yes?"_

"Yes."

The next time we hold hands we felt like the single strongest  
thing in the world. We, belonging to one another, ready  
to face whatever might be there waiting for us, being sure that  
this, us, would make us better, would allow us to be what we  
had ought to be from the start.


End file.
